Every so often, something happens that makes me wish there was some sort of Orwellian 1984 Big Brother thing around to videotape all the goings-on -- at least the things that happen in public. Yeah, I know, I know -- invasion of privacy, loss of rights, etc., blah blah blah. Whatever. But the thing is, I am always hearing stories about utterly hilarious things happening in public that I will never get to see because nobody was around with a video camera, and frankly, this trend is starting to piss me off.
One of these things happened last Wednesday, and so far, no videotape of the incident in question has yet come forward. If it ever does, I need to see it. Here is an excerpt from the Reno Gazette-Journal about what happened, from a Thursday story titled "Errant Punt Damages City Landmark," by Anjeanette Damon:
Max Page, general manager of Fitzgeralds Casino-Hotel, said he has learned to keep his eyes open for suspicious activity while walking to work during the early morning hours. But he never thought he would watch four men set up a football play in the middle of North Virginia Street.
"I was a little caught off guard," he said. "I thought maybe they were going to take a picture of themselves. Then one of them launches this very nice soccer-style kick."
Instead of sailing over the arch, the football missed its mark by several feet, smashing through the E's glass covering, bursting the neon tubing and denting the back of the casing.
Page said he yelled at the four men as they scrambled to catch the football that ricocheted off the sign.
"They took off running and I chased them," Page said. "That's probably the funniest part of this whole thing. Here's these 20-year-old kids running into a casino with a stiff-legged, 51-year-old man chasing after them."
Let me make it clear that what these men did was wrong and horrible and nasty. It is never appropriate to damage a piece of public property, whether it be the beloved Reno Arch or the Swiss-cheese statue in front of the federal courthouse or even Jeff Griffin's pants. The act of damaging something like the Arch is not funny, either, nor is the fact that lots of money had to be spent to fix it.
Having said that, I almost ruptured several vital organs after reading about and trying to picture the above scene. Imagine a bunch of idiot frat boys (forgive me, but this sounds like something fraternity brothers would do, especially if alcohol or sorority sisters were involved) meandering onto Virginia Street with a football, and -- traffic, pedestrians and closed casino buildings be damned -- lining up for a punt or a field goal.
The kick is up, and it is ... whoops. RUN!!!!!!!!
Several things really stuck out to me in this account:
-- The fact that it was, according to Page, a "very nice soccer-style" kick. This was no ugly, playground style punt; this was a very nice kick. For some reason, I just find that bit of detail to be fantastic, seeing as it wasn't nice enough to, well, be successful in its goal of making it over the arch. That is, unless the kicker the was actually AIMING for the letter "E," possibly because he harbors anger toward the letter as the result of some childhood trauma that occurred during a "Sesame Street" episode that just so happened to be sponsored by that letter.
-- The fact that these guys, after nailing the Arch and knowing that they had messed up royally, went back to retrieve the ball. This shows that men, not women, were involved. If something like this had happened involving females -- which seems less likely in the first place, for I can't believe there are many women out there this stupid -- they would have left the ball in the middle of the street and gotten the heck out of there.
-- There are no security folks around, leaving the Fitzgeralds general manager to chase after the errant kickers himself?
Anyway, thanks to the hard work of city crews, the Arch was operational by Wednesday night -- albeit with not as much neon around the "E." I just hope that someone comes up with a tape of the incident. Otherwise, I will demand that Big Brother starts watching downtown.
Jimmy Boegle is a fifth-generation Nevadan who, despite living in Northern Nevada all his life, has never felt the urge to kick a field goal over any incarnation of the Reno Arch. Jimmy's column appears here Tuesdays, and a column archive may be viewed at www.jimmyboegle.com.